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Im a 6'2" walking pile of goo that loves to eat good food that's bad for him. I tend to wrap anything in a tortilla, and seldom feel the need to heat up left-overs.

I'm opinionated as hell, but seldom share in person since I'm not much for upsetting people. I am pretty mean though, but only on the inside where I can talk tough without consequence.

I love to both read AND write, and am usually in some stage of doing one or the other. After two decades of being in one daydream or another, life has turned into something that can be difficult to participate in, as I have come to consider cloud nine to be my home with reality being the dreaded daily commute.

All who ever succeed in getting me to talk wonder if it was a good idea, and many are those who turn away from me with a funny feeling in their nether regions. Yes, that's on purpose.

That said, I am really, really good at making fudge. Oh, and I'm known to be sweet to children and small furry animals.

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

So after a long and depressing hiatus from some equally depressing dating, I’ve decided to become active in the whole romance department once again. This is interesting from a personally developmental point of view for many reasons, most of which are obvious to anyone who knows me. In the last few months various people that I know and trust have told me do several things that would presumably get me moving in the right direction. Needless to say some of the things I heard were a kick in the junk, while some of them were simply laughable.

A few of these suggestions managed to strike a chord, and I decided to do something about it. Loneliness is a hungry beast, and it was high time I stopped feeding the greedy pig. But how should I change? What should I change? Outside opinions are all well and good, but I’m the one who has to do the work and ultimately live with the results.

So this is what I’m doing:

I’m getting rid of the paunch. Yes, I know that women aren’t as visual as men, but who actually wants to date a fatty? There’s a reason that Brad Pitt is more popular than Jack Black. Besides, I’ve discovered that when I look good, I FEEL good. When I feel good, I am occasionally more charming than I have any right to be. Thus, a fit Bryan is more likely a lovin’ Bryan. Problem is I hate, Hate, HATE gyms. Bleh. I’m biting the bullet.

After a talk over the holidays with a genius friend of mine, I’m going to work on my excellence. “What does that mean?” you ask? Well, it’s simple. We are all attracted to excellence. Think about it. It’s not the football player who gets all the girls, it’s the star football player. Mick Jagger is hideous, but he still married a super model. Being wonderful at something, at anything, gets attention. A big part of this is that to be truly excellent at anything, you must have a passion for it. I have been excellent before. It’s a feeling unlike any other. A certainty that anything is not only possible, but that you can expect it to happen because you have reached one summit already. I’ve let a lot of my passion wither recently, and it’s high time I started throwing some fertilizer around. I’ve identified a few things I’m good at, and I’ve decided to try and be excellent at them. Again, this will take A LOT of work, but all of the things that are worthwhile usually do. Plus, there’s a certain pride that comes from being excellent at something. You are able to take ownership of it, to be a part of it. Excellence is a worthy endeavor for me at this point simply because it’s beneficial for a multitude of things beyond mere attractiveness.

As for the fur, I’m ambivalent. I’ve always been torn over the Goatee. I hate shaving in general, and the goat saves me some of that. I’m not dyeing anything though. I happen to like the silver flags. It’s like a badge of honor after the crap I’ve been through. Besides, it’s too much effort for such a small thing that ultimately doesn’t matter that much to me. Sure, I have my vanities, but that’s not one of them.

Forgiving the little things. I’ve realized that my pickiness has inadvertently become a sort of barrier to hide behind as far as women are concerned. A friend once wanted me to run interference with a true hag of a woman so that he could talk up her friend. I thought she was cute enough, but a monumental bitch, so I declined. He missed the point and half shouted in exasperation “They can’t all be supermodels!” My response was to ask him: “Why not?” While I still agree with the sentiment that you should always reach beyond your grasp, I fear that this has caused me more than a few opportunities to be wondrously happy. My Stepsister is someone who loves to fight it out over every little thing, but she will be the first to tell you that a relationship is a lot of work. Not in changing the other person, but in trying to change yourself. Now while there are things that I refuse to compromise on, there are also things that I can live with that I’ve refused to tolerate in the past. So I will consciously be taking a more open mind set when it comes to women that have little aspects about them that would normally turn me away. I’ve always prided myself on being open minded, so it’s time to apply that to my preferences in this aspect of my life.

Nick, my evil twin, will not be making a come back I’m afraid to say. Yes I was quite successful with certain aspects of dating when I approached it all like a self-serving, sharp-tongued asshole, but I also came to despise myself for it. I was certainly more popular, but I’ve never been the guy who went for quantity over quality. I want one woman, one GREAT woman. That’s why I’m going to go for a very different approach this time around. Instead of being the man who is self important to the point of being attractive to many insecure women, I’m going to try to be the man who is worthy of one strong, independent, exceptional woman.

Actually getting out there is problematic for me though. I don’t like bars, and it seems sacrilegious to go to church intent on seeing who you can meet, so as far as Albuquerque is concerned there’s precious little else in the way of venues for meeting quality women. I’ve started to consider drastic measures, but the whole hostage thing can go bad if you’re not careful… The solution I’ve come up with is a tad bit embarrassing though, so no I’m not going to list it here. Sorry, I don’t mean to tease you dear reader, it’s just more than I’m ready to share yet.

So there it is. I’m trying to get away from the whole moaning my single status thing, and concentrate more fully on fixing the root cause (myself) instead. As I sit hear and contemplate the staggering amount of effort required to achieve my goals, I find that I want to curl up and take a nap instead.